


Household Accidents

by Indehed



Series: Snuggle 'verse [5]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:20:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indehed/pseuds/Indehed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The majority of accidents happen in the home...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Household Accidents

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Wypadki w gospodarstwie domowym](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7263376) by [MobyDick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MobyDick/pseuds/MobyDick)



> This was never meant to happen. It was one story. ONE. GODDAMNIT.  
> :)  
> Thanks, Paulette! And don't apologise for taking, like, 12 hours on the turnaround. I swear, I will take advantage! Aim low ;)

Steve McGarrett was always a danger to any household, and Danny, being his best friend in the whole world since they began school, knew this better than most. This was one of the reasons he took three weeks to decide whether or not to move in with the man he had been recently reunited with. It was simple; he was worried about his safety. 

Mind you, Danny seemed to be around when these mishaps happened, and he remembered either being directly involved by spurring Steve on, or tagging along even when he knew he shouldn't.

When they were tiny, they could only have been four or five, Doris McGarrett was babysitting while Danny's mom was out. The other kids were still at home with their aunt and uncle, but Danny had been a stubborn little boy and when his mom wasn't at home for the evening, perhaps if she had a date, he insisted that he be with Steve instead. 

This time, for some reason, he was going to be staying over for the whole night and an auspicious start to the evening had them covered in spaghetti sauce so Doris had little choice but to put them in the bath before letting them go to bed. 

They shared the bath. They were both small enough to fit, and at that age, neither of them cared about being naked together (they still didn't now, come to think of it) and they'd splashed and had fun with toy boats and submarines.

Doris had left the room to go deal with Mary who was crying in her crib. She'd left strict orders for them to be good. It had, frankly, been a little bit too trusting. She may not have feared they'd drown or anything, but instead, Steve decided the water had become too cold for him so he'd turned on the hot tap and let the water begin running again. 

Neither boy seemed to care nor notice as the bath began to overflow. They just kept playing. When Doris ran back in, it was to find the floor soaked with a layer of water and the boys looking as innocent as possible. 

At the age of seven, Steve was playing at Danny's house one weekend. They were in the back garden pretending to be rival pirates (neither would give in and be a damsel in distress and Danny's sisters didn't want to play and had hidden their Barbies so they had to make do with what they had) and Danny's mom had recently taken the washing in from the line. Spotting the empty wire hanging there, Steve had pulled at it and it had all fallen around him. 

Danny remembered taking a breath of shock, while Steve had picked it up and grinned. He'd then chased Danny around the garden until he could tackle him to the ground and tie him up as his prisoner. When Danny's mom found them later, with Danny now tied around a tree with Steve telling him he now belonged to him as his treasure, they'd both been herded inside and reminded that the washing line wasn't a toy.

When they were ten, and it was July, John McGarrett had bought fireworks for a family celebration. Everyone had been invited over, including the Williams' and they were having a barbecue out on the lanai. One thing Danny remembered was Steve getting bored of all the boring adults and complaining to him about how bored he was and blah blah blah… Danny had given in and steered Steve inside and away from the dullness of what must have been people talking about work and traffic and weather and other such inanities. He'd thought they would go to Steve's room and play, but instead, Steve had ground to a halt inside the kitchen. 

He'd spotted the box of fireworks.

He'd rushed to them, happiness tinting his cheeks red with delight and he'd ripped the lid off to see what was inside. This was one occasion where Danny tried to tell him 'no, Steven!' but the other boy couldn't be persuaded. 

Instead, Danny became his protective detail. He was, essentially, Steve's back-up and was there in case something went wrong. 

Steve knew where his dad kept a lighter in one of the kitchen drawers and he'd grabbed two sparklers from the box with intent. Before Danny could blink, the crackles and sparks were flying around the room, much brighter than either boy expected. When some of the sparks got onto the wood of the kitchen table and began to smolder, Steve had dropped his sparkler on the floor. Danny blew out the one in his hand and grabbed gingerly for the one on the ground, while Steve used the sleeve of his shirt to stop the table from burning more than it already had. 

That was when his dad had walked in, looking to find where the boys had got to. It was the most trouble they'd ever been in at that point in their lives. They were in trouble for ruining the good kitchen table, for almost setting the house on fire, for singeing themselves (both had burns on their hands) and simply, for doing something they knew was stupid. 

Danny always wondered why he was in as much trouble as Steve, since it hadn't been his idea, but the adults treated them as a pair. They always did. 

At twelve, it hadn't really been their fault what had happened. Not really. They were in the bathroom together at Danny's house. It wasn't weird… well, maybe it was. They were in there looking at 'lady things' in the cabinet (the girls were having a special sex ed class that boys weren't allowed into but there were rumors and now they were snooping around, trying to deduce the facts from the fiction) when someone had arrived home and made lots of noise coming up the stairs. 

To try and avoid any awkward conversations about them being in there together, Steve had slammed the door shut so no one could see. The problem was, in the style of a bad sitcom, the door handle on their side fell off and two minutes later, when they thought the coast was clear, they couldn't get the door open. 

Danny had been so mad. In an effort to keep things less awkward, Steve had made things even _more_ awkward instead. Danny was blushing and they hadn't even been caught yet. 

Then Steve had an idea. He grabbed the toilet brush holder and began hitting at the door, trying to break it down. He said once they were free, Danny could go back to his room and Steve would take the blame. When Steve suggested things like that, even a pre-teen Danny gave in to his selflessness and had forgiven him. 

They worked together to get loose, but the noise brought Danny's uncle to them. All that was need was for him to release them easily from his side. At first, there was simply relief all around, until Uncle Peter noticed what Steve had done to their side of the door. It was chipped, marked, there was paint peel all over the floor and the wood by the lock had completely splintered. By twelve, the puppy dog eyes and innocent routine barely worked on the adults in their lives. Instead, the boys got to spend the next four weekends helping Uncle Peter fix the door and all of their pocket money went to buying a new lock and paint.

Sixteen, and Steve was buffing up well. Danny was too, mainly from fending off Steve all the time, or giving the bigger teen piggy back rides and their general roughhousing. Somehow, it wasn't enough for Steve, who wanted to get into better shape as he was determined to break the school football records. One Saturday when Danny had arrived at Steve's room, the young quarterback already had most of his clothes out from his closet. It was a large space, certainly for a boy, and took up one wall of his room where it was built in. 

Danny watched as Steve pulled the clothes from the rack and laid them on his bed instead, filling him in on his new idea. Danny had only one thought.

"Are you sure it's stable?"

"It's nailed into the wall. It's held for years."

"That's my point. It's held your clothes for years, not you."

"Everything will be fine."

"Don't say that, Steve, please don't say that."

Danny had been right. Steve shouldn't have jinxed it, because after three attempts at pull ups, Steve brought down the bar, landing on his ass. That alone would be bad, because he'd pulled apart his wardrobe, but somehow, because of how much weight and stress he'd put it under, and how it was built into the wall, when he crashed to the ground, so did the shelving above, dumping a whole bunch of boxes and their contents on top of Steve with an booming sound that echoed around the room. 

There was a moment of silence and outright shock from both of them. Danny just stood there, marveling at what he'd witnessed with a hand over his mouth. Steve had sat on the floor, rubbing his lower back and pushing a box of knick-knacks off his legs. Then Danny sprung into action, quickly hopping to where Steve was and making sure he was okay, rubbing Steve's elbow where he'd said he'd hit it when he'd landed and checking his head for injuries, while Steve grinned at him like he was indestructible and enjoying Danny's fussing. 

There was a thundering of footsteps as Doris came up to find out what the hell had happened. When she opened the door, it was like a dust cloud was disturbed as well as she took in the sight. 

In the end, Steve got plenty of exercise while they fixed the wardrobe back up again over the next few days. Why Danny was involved in the clean up, he had no idea, because this time he was pretty sure he'd had nothing to do with it. 

And now here he was. Remembering the myriad of times before where Steve had been a danger to himself and others in the household. It was like he was a statistic. He was the poster boy for 'most accidents happen in the home'. Why would Danny be foolish enough to move in with him?

"Because I've grown up, Danny. Those were just stupid kid things and you know it."

"Okay, I admit, the Navy has helped you by funneling all that daring spirit into fighting shoe bombers in caves in the darkest parts of the world, but you are home now. When you get antsy and decide to start some kind of household project, I fear something bad will happen."

"Again, I was… _we_ were kids when _we_ did those things. We didn't know what we were doing. Now, if it'll make you happy, I'll read the instructions first."

"You better."

In the end, Danny thought Steve must have been right, because living in the house was uneventful for the longest time. Okay, there was that cooking mishap, but to be fair, that was Danny and he was man enough to admit that not opening the window to let the smoke out when he burned the food was a bad idea. And entirely his.

But he saw that as the incident that led to the first of what he now figured would be many other household problems for them. It was like having something happen flipped a switch in Steve's head.

It was that same day, it was only a period of hours later once they were home from the case they'd been called into and collapsed together that it went wrong. 

Despite being tired from a long day, they had energy left in them; probably from the adrenaline rush, and that had turned into them getting frisky while standing in the kitchen. Steve had loomed over Danny, pressing kisses into his neck while Danny fumbled, stumbling backwards until his legs hit against the kitchen table. 

Steve hiked him up onto the sturdy wooden support and pushed his legs wider to stand between them. Danny's hands gripped the corners of the table as his shirt was ripped open, the material shoved aside, and hands began to fumble with his fly. 

He watched Steve work, and then his eyes turned to the side, noting the familiar burn marks embedded in the table top. He'd grinned, remembering their youthful stupidity. He reached and grabbed for Steve's face, manipulating his neck so that he could look Steve in the eyes.

"Hey, hey, we are not, I repeat, we are _not_ having sex on the kitchen table we've been eating off since we were four. That's all kinds of wrong."

Steve tilted his head noticing the same marks that Danny had been looking at. "We've done other things to the table too," he gestured to it. "Like this is any different."

"It's a little too different and we have a nice bed upstairs. It's designed for things like this. We need to relocate."

"Fine," Steve grumbled, grabbing Danny's hand and trying to speed him up as he grabbed his pants so they wouldn't fall down as they ran up the stairs. 

Steve flung himself on the bed, pushing his own pants down as he went, shucking his shirt in record time and then grabbed Danny down with him. 

As far as Danny expected, nothing was different that any other time they'd had sex in this bed. So part of him was quite willing to say it was just genuine wear and tear from its old age, but another part of his brain knew the truth. Because this was Steve, and trouble followed him around. 

No sooner had Steve manhandled Danny into a position that meant he was gripping tight to the headboard while Steve rocked into him, telling him all sorts of dirty things he wanted to do, when there was a creak. A rhythmic creaking that seemed to get louder with their own cries and then a crack, followed by an almighty thud.

And Danny was no longer holding onto the same bit of the headboard, and he was no longer kneeling on the mattress. He was now lying with a heavy Navy SEAL on top of him like a human shield. 

When he looked around them, they were no longer at the height that they had been either. The window was higher up than normal. 

"Did you… did you break the bed?" He asked, incredulously. 

Steve moved carefully and Danny realized it was because of the position they'd been in as they'd fallen. He hadn't fully taken in what had happened and there was no pain…yet, anyway. "Uhm… I think… we did."

"No, no no no… _we_ did not do this, Steven. You did, you and your Navy SEAL, G.I. Joe, abs of steel and gung ho attitude did this."

"Abs of steel?" 

Danny growled in frustration and did his best to turn around on the mattress. Really, they were fine and it was just that the legs of the bed had given out. They'd fallen all of about three feet straight to the ground and were still comfortable on the mattress… even if the headboard had come away from the wall and Steve had pushed it up and to the side away from them.

"Tell me, when you were in the Navy, did you just pick and choose which bits of your orders to listen to?"

Steve looked at Danny soberly. "I pay attention to the important bits."

"You're a menace. Are you even going to apologize for this? It's your bed!"

"It's _our_ bed and if it makes you feel any better then I'm sorry. I am truly sorry for rocking your world so hard that the bed couldn't cope and collapsed underneath us. I take full responsibility for the damn good sex. Now, do you think we could get back to it? Because we didn't exactly finish here."

"You want to keep going?" Danny asked, well aware both of them were still, in fact, horny as hell.

"It's not like we can go bed shopping right now. And our parents aren't about to storm in here and give us a row for breaking things again."

Danny stuck his lip out in consideration, and because he didn't immediately say no, Steve took it as a sign to continue and began kissing him in earnest, letting the passion come back to life.

Danny broke away, taking control, forcing Steve to move his position so they could continue where they left off. "You know, if we have to go bed shopping we could get a new kitchen table while we're at it. If you want," he mused. 

Steve pushed closer to Danny, his chest against Danny's sweaty back and leant his chin on Danny's shoulder. "No, you were right about that table having memories attached to it. We're keeping it. Scorch marks and all."

"I'm not having sex on it."

"I dunno… I think I might be able to eventually persuade you…"

Danny considered the challenge Steve was setting for himself and instead turned into Steve and trailed his lips over his partner's cheek until they reached his mouth. He controlled the kisses from the difficult angle until Steve moved against him and made him gasp. 

"Hmm," he breathed out. "I want it made clear right now, that the only fireworks allowed inside this house, are the kind we're making right now. And here. In this bedroom. Is that clear?"

"I can't guarantee that."

"Steve!"


End file.
